The Third Twin

by Cj Omololu

  I stare at her. “How do you know about Rebecca?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I know things.”

  “Rebecca’s crazy, I’ll give you that,” I say. “But why would she kill Eli? And I didn’t even know her when Casey was killed.”

  “I did,” Ava says. “She tried to start something at a club in the North Bay about a month before Casey was killed. Got pissed that Eli was hanging out with me.”

  “She did try to start a fight in the bathroom last night,” I say. “After she saw me and Eli talking …”

  “Maybe she thought he was getting back together with you?” Rubi offers.

  I remember their kiss in the alley. “I doubt it. She looked pretty sure of her position.”

  “Putting you in jail would be a good way to keep you away from her boyfriend.”

  “But why would she kill him?”

  “Suspicions aren’t going to do us any good,” Ava says. “We need evidence, not theories.”

  “I agree,” Rubi says. “We’ll put the bait out there and see who it attracts.” She looks at Zane. “No offense.”

  He grins. “No worries. I’ll be the bait all day long.”

  Thank God he doesn’t look at me when he says that.

  “We’re coming with you. And Leo too when he gets home,” Elena says. “We should at least call the police, let them help.”

  “We will,” Ava says, though I’m not sure she means it. “As soon as we know who we have, we’ll call them.”

  Cecilia stands up. “Well, we can’t do this on empty stomachs. How about I go and get some food?”

  Trust Cecilia to think about food at a time like this. But as soon as she says that, I realize how hungry I am. I haven’t eaten anything except Funyuns all day.

  Nobody objects, so Cecilia grabs her keys off the counter. “I’ll go to Los Pericos and pick some up.” She gestures to Zane. “Why don’t you come with me, help me carry the bags?”

  Zane glances at me. “I’d rather stay here, if that’s okay.”

  I smile at him, thankful that I have him on my side. Even if some of it is just pretend.

  “You should come.” She gives Zane a not-so-subtle wink. “Leave them to catch up a little bit.”

  Zane gives in. “Okay. I’ll go.” He walks over to me, picks up a pen from the table next to the sofa, and writes some numbers on my hand. “That’s my cell. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Okay.” I don’t want him to leave, but I don’t say anything else as I watch him close the front door behind them. Now Ava’s the only one left who’s familiar.

  Rubi sits back on the sofa and looks at her mother. “I didn’t really tell them about how it all happened. You know … about dropping them off.”

  Elena turns in her chair. “You didn’t? Why not?”

  “Because I thought you should.”

  Elena pulls out her phone and turns it toward us. On it is a picture of Rubi and two younger girls on merry-go-round horses.

  “Those are your half sisters,” Elena says, her face beaming with pride. “Lara and Jasmine. They’re at school, but they’ll be home after three.”

  I wonder what it would have been like to grow up in a house full of girls. I have to ask the question I’ve wondered my whole life: “Why did you give us up?”

  “I grew up in a small town in Colorado. We had a little rancho—a couple of horses, some cows, things like that. It was nice. That’s where you were born.” Elena’s voice is quick but steady, like she’s reciting a script she wrote a long time ago. “I was so young, and then when you came, you were so small and needed so much help in the beginning.” She glances toward Ava. “Raquel was really sick with the tubes and the doctors.… After you came, I knew I didn’t want to give any of you up. I thought I could do it, that I could raise all of you together.” She hesitates. “I tried. But it was just too hard.”

  “They think you dumped them, like puppies,” Rubi says.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Elena says, turning back to me, tears in her eyes. “I wanted what was best for you. Rubi was the oldest. It just seemed right this way.”

  “Rubi’s the oldest?” I ask. I’ve always felt like the oldest.

  Elena nods. “Rubi was born first. Then you and then Raquel.” She glances at Rubi, and then back to me. “But it wasn’t just that, just because of the order you were born in. You and Raquel were so close, always sleeping with your arms around each other.… I couldn’t bear to separate you.” She looks at Ava. “I prayed and prayed until I realized that I would rather lose you to another family than have God take Raquel too early. So I left for California to make a new life, and then Cecilia suggested your dad and the restaurant. It was all safe.… I knew you’d be taken care of.”

  I know Dad’s going to be upset when he hears about Rubi, hears that he unknowingly separated triplets. Despite everything that’s happened, he wants what’s best for us. He always has. “We were,” I finally say. “Even though I’m on the run from the cops at the moment, Dad did a good job.”

  Elena nods gratefully, holding on to the small amount of forgiveness I can give her right now. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “No heels,” I say to Ava as she looks at herself in Rubi’s mirror. “We all have to look the same. And be able to run if we need to. Those things are a liability.”

  “But they’re so cute,” she says, spinning around in Rubi’s strappy red sandals. Finally, she’s found a sister who shares her taste in shoes.

  “Try these,” Rubi says from inside the closet, tossing out a pair of black flats remarkably similar to the ones I’m wearing. She emerges with another pair that are the same except for tiny bows on the front. “I’ll cut these off, and then all three of us will look the same.” Ava slips the flats on reluctantly and stands in front of the mirrored closet door with us.

  I have to admit, the effect is a little creepy. By digging into Rubi’s clothes, we’ve managed to find jeans for the two of them to match the ones I’m wearing, and three long gray T-shirts that match closely enough. With the same high ponytails and the same red lipstick, nobody will be able to tell us apart. “Freaky,” Ava says under her breath.

  “Yep,” Rubi agrees.

  “I just wish we had something to bling it up,” Ava says, picking at the hem of her shirt. “This stuff is all so boring.”

  “Would you get serious!” I say. “We’re not going to a party, for God’s sake. We’re trying to catch a killer. We don’t need to be flashy, we just need to be identical.”

  “It’s working,” Elena says from the doorway.

  All three of us turn in unison. “Can you tell us apart?” Rubi asks.

  Elena points to Rubi. “Rubi.” Then to me and Ava. “Ava and Lexi.”

  I laugh. “Close, but no.”

  She looks astonished. “I got Rubi right, though.”

  Rubi walks over and stands in front of her. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Elena steps back, confusion written all over her face. “Okay. Now, that’s not funny.” She looks panicked.

  “You got Rubi right.” I laugh. “That’s Ava,” I say, pointing to my sister.

  She shakes her head. “I’m going to have to mark you guys somehow.”

  “When we were little, Dad pierced our ears and put purple stones in mine and pink stones in Ava’s. That way our teachers could tell us apart.” I see Rubi’s posture slump as the words escape my lips, and I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings a little.

  “Mine were red,” she says. “But only because my name is Rubi.” We all mentally finish that for her—there was nobody else who looked like her.

  “Zane and Cecilia should be back soon,” Elena says. “Let’s go clear off the table.”

  “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask as we all file out of Rubi’s room.

  “Sure,” she says. “Down at the end of the hallway.”

  I use the bathroom and am about to walk out when I hear something buzzing on a shelf above the sink. It’s a
new phone—the kind Ava wants to get as soon as Dad will let her. The screen lights up as a text comes through.

  “Someone left their phone in the bathroom,” I say, holding it up as I walk back into the kitchen.

  Rubi glances over. “That’s Aunt Cecilia’s. She’s always leaving her stuff around.”

  I look at the shiny new touch screen. “This isn’t hers. She has an old one with the keyboard that Dad gave her years ago.”

  Elena looks at the phone in my hand and shakes her head. “No, that’s the phone Cecilia just got a few months ago. She’s always wasting her money on every new gadget that comes out. I tell her all the time that an old phone makes calls just as well as a new one, but she never listens.” She points down the hall. “Why don’t you go and put it in her room so she won’t lose it. Last doorway on the right.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen Cecilia with anything but Dad’s castoffs. And I can’t imagine her wanting every new gadget that comes out. She can barely even change the channel with the remote. “Okay,” I say, turning and walking down the short hallway.

  The door is closed, but as soon as I open it, I smell Cecilia’s world—a familiar combination of roses and spice—and know I’m in the right place. I recognize the white iron bed as one that used to be in our rooms before Dad redecorated a couple of years ago, but as I look around, I get uneasy. There’s a new laptop sitting on the dresser and a tablet next to the bed. I’ve never in my life seen Cecilia willingly interact with a computer. I’m running my fingers over the brushed aluminum of the laptop’s lid, when I hear someone pounding on the front door, followed by some startled cries. The bedroom door is still open, so I rush to it, but pause as I hear orders being barked by a deep voice, and the crackle of police radios. Shit! They found us!

  Without thinking, I jump into the closet, slide the door closed, and huddle in the corner, covering myself with some long coats and dresses that have been pushed to the back. The action sends up clouds of Cecilia’s perfume. My heart is pounding, but I force myself to take short, shallow breaths, because every time I move, the plastic hangers click together. I can hear something going on in the living room. How did they find us? We did everything right—we left Ava’s car in the parking lot and I took the battery out of my phone. A sinking realization washes over me. We took the battery out of my phone, but in the craziness of getting out of Ms. Alvarez’s parking lot, we left it in Ava’s. She still has her phone on her, and it’s working. And easy to track.

  I stay as still as possible as heavy footsteps clomp down the hall toward my hiding place. I can hear the squawk of the radio as one of the cops gets closer, and then a bang as the door to Cecilia’s room opens. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting to be discovered, as a hand ruffles the hangers above my head. I can hear the cop’s heavy breathing as he searches the closet, and I know that any second a gloved hand is going to reach out and pull me up and into the daylight. It’s over. A rushing sound fills my ears, and I bite my bottom lip in order not to cry out. It seems to go on forever, but in a few moments, I hear the boots shuffling on the bedroom carpet and the cop shouts, “Back bedrooms are clear!”

  I sink farther onto the floor as I wait for him to come back, but all the noise is coming from the front of the house. I want to stay hidden, want to crouch in this closet forever in the ultimate game of hide-and-seek, but even more, I want to know what’s going on, so I silently push the dresses aside and creep toward the half-open bedroom door. I can’t see anything, but I can hear the cops’ voices a lot better, along with the unmistakable metallic click of handcuffs and a girl’s calm, soothing voice repeating that it’s going to be okay. Another radio crackles, and a voice at the front of the house says, “We got them both. Two in custody. We’re bringing them outside now.” I lean against the wall for support as I realize what’s happening: they think Rubi is me—and Rubi is letting them. She’s going to go to jail in my place. Like Ava said, they’ll figure it out soon enough, but Rubi has bought me half a day at least.

  My brain spins as I try to think of my next move. What if they take Elena too? I have to tell Zane and Cecilia not to come back. I have to at least try to get out.

  The window above Cecilia’s bed leads out to the backyard. I quietly stand on the bed so that I can peer outside. From what I can see, there are no cops back there—which makes sense if they think they’ve already got me in custody. The window clicks as I lift the latch, and I freeze, but nobody else in the house hears it. Inch by inch I slide the window open, and then pop the screen out as quietly as I can. I fully expect to be surrounded by cops as soon as I stick my head out, but there’s nothing back here but a patchy lawn and the old wooden swing set. I hook one leg over the ledge and then the other, and let out a slight yelp as I drop the five feet to the ground.

  I’m sure the front is swarming with police cars, so I turn toward the wooden fence that lines the side of the narrow yard. The whole thing is only a little higher than my head, so I put one foot on the cross brace and pull myself up to the top. The neighbor’s yard is a similar size, but paved and completely empty. After I slide down the fence to the other side, it takes only a dozen steps to make it to the far side of the yard, where I repeat the process and sink into a lawn on the other side. This yard is empty too, but a small white dog starts barking and scratching at the glass patio door, so I race across the grass as fast as I can. This fence is taller than the others, and as I put my foot on the wooden slat, I know I’m not going to make it over. I drop back down and look around, and spot a large ceramic pot next to a lawn chair. I barely notice its weight as I move it next to the fence, and then I wobble on the top as I use it as a stool to give myself the height I need to get my leg over the top. I’m four houses away from Elena’s now, and I land on the deck of a covered hot tub. Instead of crossing this yard, I run along the side of the house to the gate that leads to the front. Quickly I lift the latch and duck down past the living room windows in case anyone is inside.

  There’s a bush at the corner of the house, and it makes a good cover as I look down the street at all the activity. There are four cop cars and a big black SUV parked at various angles in front of Elena’s house. I don’t see Rubi and Ava anywhere. They must already be gone, which means that the minutes until the cops find out Rubi’s true identity are ticking by. One cop is leaning into the open window of a car, talking to another cop, who is obviously typing something on a computer. The mood seems less urgent and more casual now that they’ve gotten what they came for. I look the other way at Zane’s van, parked behind a silver SUV one more house down from where I’m standing. Thank God there wasn’t room to park in front of Elena’s house when we got here today.

  Nobody seems to look my way as I walk down the front yard next to the shrubs, then quickly along the sidewalk to Zane’s van. I say a silent prayer and find the door unlocked. I slip into the driver’s seat, duck down, and find the keys in the armrest right where he usually keeps them. I peek over the dashboard at the cop still standing at the open car window. He tilts his head back and laughs at something the other cop says—just another day, as far as he’s concerned. “Go inside already,” I say under my breath as the minutes crawl by. Finally he bangs twice on the door of the squad car and waves as it begins to reverse. Then it pulls forward, and I press my face against the passenger seat while the car speeds off, inches from the van I’m hiding in. I glance back up in time to see the other cop take a quick look down the street, say something into the radio that’s attached to his shoulder, and turn toward Elena’s front door.

  As soon as he’s out of sight, I slip the key into the ignition, and the van’s engine roars to life. I don’t even glance at Elena’s house as I turn in the middle of the street and head toward town. I can’t see out the back in the rearview mirror, so I sit up and tilt the mirror toward me until I see the end of Elena’s driveway receding into the distance. I hold my breath until I’m around the corner. Nobody on the street is paying any attention to the beat-
up white van as it rolls away. After a few minutes of driving, I pull off the main road and into the parking lot of a strip mall. Surrounded by other cars, I feel a lot less conspicuous. I reach into my pocket, pull out Cecilia’s phone, and stare at the screen as it waits for me to enter the passcode. In the background there’s a photo from a couple of years ago of Rubi sticking her tongue out at the camera. Why would Cecilia pretend that she hates new phones? And laptops and tablets? I stare at the four empty boxes on the screen and on a hunch type in the four numbers of our birthday—at least, the date that Dad decided was our birthday—but the phone won’t let me in. What else would she use? I type in her birthday, but that’s not right either. The address at Elena’s house is too long. I’ve got to call Zane! I try to calm down enough to think straight. I type in our birthday again, but only the month and day, 0620, and let out a whoop when the screen clears and her icons pop up.

  I punch in the numbers Zane wrote on my hand and hear it ringing on the other end. I’m impatient for him to answer. Just as I think it’s going to voice mail, I hear him pick up, but there’s only a rustling on the other end.

  “Zane?”

  There’s no answer, and I wonder if they’ve already gotten back to the house.

  “Zane?” I ask again.

  I can hear muffled voices. He must not realize he picked up. I hang up and put my head on the steering wheel, then bang on it, tears in my eyes. Pick up the phone! Come on, Zane! Pick it up. Looking out the windshield at the liquor store, dry cleaner, and Baskin-Robbins, I wonder what I’m going to do if I can’t find him. I can’t go back to Elena’s. I can’t go back to my house. Or Zane’s. For someone who hates technology, Cecilia has pages and pages of icons for things I’ve never even heard of. I go back to the home screen, and my finger hovers over the photo icon. She obviously has photos of Rubi. Does she have photos of us growing up too? Was she taking them all along and we never noticed? I click on it, and it takes a few seconds for the image that appears to make sense in my brain. It’s me and Zane in the backyard of Elena’s house. I’m on the platform of the swing set, my hands covering my tears as Zane leans away from me. That’s creepy—why was she spying on us? I flip to the next photo and drop the phone when it comes up. Fumbling on the floorboard of the van, I find it, but I don’t want to look again. I take a couple of deep breaths and look, but it’s still there—a picture of me and Eli in the alley of the club last night, his face twisted into a mask of hatred and betrayal as I try to convince him he’s in danger. Cecilia was there. Right there, just before he was killed.